


Masquerade

by Sirca



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirca/pseuds/Sirca
Summary: Julian is a free man, the masquerade goes as planned, and Brennan finds herself enjoying their newfound relationship.





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rouletta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rouletta/gifts).



> Any mistakes made here are purely my own.

The sky was bathed in dusk and speckled with stars when the masquerade formally begins. Brennan shifted her weight; the shoes lent from Nadia making her teeter precariously. She'd leaned against Julian's arm in support. He'd grinned and bent down to check it.

“It doesn't appear to be broken,” he said, lifting up the terrible skirts she'd been forced to wear (another lovely gift from Nadia) to caress the skin with his leather gloves.

She'd batted him away with a sigh, even as color crept along her cheeks. “How very gentlemanly of you to check. But I could've told you that it's fine. Just a wrong step.”

“Well, I could always check again,” he'd murmured, attempting to pluck at her skirts again. “Just to be safe, of course.”

Now she wished she'd let him check again, maybe leading them back home than face the prospect of an entire night in her costume. She chanced a glance at Julian from the corner of her eyes, past the mask that obscured part of her peripheral vision. He was adorned in blacks and blues, a long cloak trailing down his back. His mask resembled the one from the theater, though much more finely crafted. Raven's feathers adorned him, made him shimmer with every move.

It was strange to see him out of his doctor's attire. Stranger still to have him walk through the palace's opulent doors as a free man. Still, the ever consuming feeling of wanting to hold tighter to him as they passed armed guards was hard to shake. They were invited; they were guests.

The palace glittered in the low light while soft stringed music spilled from the open doors to the gardens. No detail had escaped Nadia's gaze, and the effect was more dazzling than any other time Brennan had seen it. Julian kept her hand tucked in the crook of his arm as they approached.

Already people flocked to the wide, open spaces that provided them ample room to dance. Brennan spied Nadia and Portia among the crowd, dressed in their elaborate gowns and feathered masks. When their eyes met across the sea of people, Portia gave her a wink and made a watching gesture to her brother. Nadia only seemed amused.

“Well, they certainly seem to be having fun,” Julian said, shifting her hand so that he could engulf it in his grasp. He made to pull her towards the crowd, intent on torturing her poor feet further. Not that she complained or resisted. The prospect of being close far outweighs everything else.

“Seems you have the same aim, Julian,” she told him.

Her hands were unsure, so he moved them to the proper place. Or, she amended, what she believes is the proper place. This wasn't the type of dancing she used to, no overly crowded tavern or raucous laughter, and no instrument for her to pluck the strings of.

“I do seem to recall promising you a dance,” he carried on. When Brennan shook her head, he arched a curious brow. “No? Pasha will make all our hard work go to waste if I don't. She can be very persuasive.”

Brennan remembered Portia cracking her knuckles when she'd heard the story of Julian's dramatic declarations that they could never see each other again. Yes, very persuasive.

“I certainly wouldn't tell you to do something you don't want to.” She grinned.

Then, he scoffed, feigned offense. “No, no, I love to dance. And I'll love dancing with you too.”

“So now you're willing. I see.”

He pulled her a little closer than was more than likely socially acceptable. They began to move with the sound of strings, swaying in time. Brennan kept her eyes firmly on his, even when she felt their feet scuff against each other. Julian, mercifully, kept a brave face and led her through the dance with ease.

“You're a natural, dear.”

“Am not, but I have a decent partner,” she said, standing on the very tips of her toes. Julian leaned forward to meet her halfway, warm breath and skin brushing hers. Her lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, and he tilted to meet her. When she bit down, lightly, teasingly, feeling him shiver and his gloved fingers slide down her back.

It ended far sooner than she expected, and Julian released her to bow deeply at the waste. His bright red hair obscured his even brighter face, and she reached out to touch him, raise him up, have him look at her. He grinned toothily as he leaned into the palm on his face.

Another dance began, and it was noticeable how quickly he grabbed her up. His legs ghosted along hers, a myriad of soft touches that made warmth pool in her gut. In retaliation, she raised her fingers to the back of his neck, burying in his thick hair. Her nails grazed his scalp with a little more force than necessary.

“Ohhh, you're uh... a tease, as well,” he said, his voice taking on a honey-warm quality.

“How fortunate. I'm thinking the same about you,” she responded coyly. Julian dipped her. Perhaps her shifting grip on the feathers on his shoulder was a little too tight. Perhaps the drifting, dripping black was exactly what she aimed to do.

When he rights her, she could see the flush creeping from underneath his mask, all the way to the tips of his charming ears. Careful of the curved beak of his mask, she stole another quick kiss.

The two of them carried on that way for a good while, taking breaks only to steal drinks of strawberry wine that only tasted better mingled with the pleasant taste of Julian's mouth. The fountain became their resting place, gentle burbling obscuring small snatches of music and conversation.

“Think anyone would notice if we stole away?” she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder.

A snort came from the other side of them as Portia removed her shoes and shoved her feet into the water unceremoniously. “Oh my god, please. You're making me and the guests sick with whatever it is you two are doing.”

“Whatever we're doing? Pasha, I saw the way you buried your face in the poor Countess' bosom,” Julian said teasingly.

Portia's lip jutted out as she gave Julian the flattest stare that Brennan had ever seen. Then, she mumbled, “At least I'm not being weird about it like you.”

“Weird how? Like this?” Julian made a show of scooping Brennan up, lifting his mask to pepper kisses across her face. “Or like this?” She squirmed as he began pressing them against her neck.

Portia made a disgusted noise before fishing her key ring from the flowing silks she was adorned in. “Oh my god! Take this! Get a room! Just stop before I lose my dinner, Ilya.”

“Ah, thank you!” he exclaimed, disengaging himself just enough to snatch the key from her hand. “Come, my dear. Let's not upset my sister's delicate sensibilities.”

***

They didn't make it to the room Portia had given them a key to. They didn't even make it past the library before Brennan pulled herself up for air, dancing out of his grip to the sound of the faint music outside to magically push the locked library door open. Julian was only permitted to stare for a moment before he was hauled inside by his ridiculous raven feathers.

They stumbled back and through rows and rows of books, the scent of them mingling with that of something unmistakably Julian. Her fingers clawed at the back of his neck, while his hands gripped at her waist and hips. Then, her legs hit something solid.

It was Julian's old desk. Thick, heavy medical tomes tipped precariously before spilling from the sides from the impact. His eye darted to where they landed with a thump, allowing Brennan the momentary distraction to haul him around to take her place on the wooden surface. With a gasp, Julian obeyed her insistent hands and tugging.

“Brennan...”

She silenced him by pressing above his collarbone, forcing him back onto the desk. Her thighs, warm and thick, straddled his waist. When he strained upwards to kiss her, she obliged him, even going so far as to slip her hand up his neck and cradle either side of his face gently.

Julian's eye fluttered open slowly when the need to breath became too much and they were forced to separate. His pupil was blown wide with want, and Brennan took only a moment before she dived back in. Rough bites spill down his neck, his fingertips dig tighter and tighter with each dip of her head.

“There. Just like like that...” he trailed off into a groan as her teeth met with his collarbone. “I never thought I'd say this, but I hope this masquerade never ends.”

It was so like Julian's mouth to run without a silencing kiss, so Brennan did. Again and again as her hand finally trailed down to the growing hardness of his arousal. The intake of breath was sharp from Julian.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Brennan teased, her lips brushing against his.

The grin Julian flashed was rakish. “You know the way to stop that, my dear.”

Her hands made quick work of his clothing, ridiculous as it was, and hiked her skirts around her waist. Julian's flesh was cool against hers, a stark contrast to the wildfire burning beneath her skin.

He murmured her name over and over again, becoming almost a whine when she finally lowered herself on him. Beneath her, his hips jerked upward, and he clung to her like a drowning man finding purchase on a piece of wreckage.

Her nails raked across his skin in the sweet, painful way that he enjoyed. Julian surged upward to claim her mouth with his own in a kiss that would surely leave her lips bruised in the morning. Not that her marks wouldn't be visible on him, either.

The heat inside her built with every move, every fevered murmur than she silenced Julian from continuing until finally, it was too much. Her spine straightened as a molten heat shot through her veins. Julian made a strangled sound as he followed suit.

They stayed on the desk until their labored breathing was under control, and Brennan complained of a wayward quill that was poking into her knee. Scooping her up as easily as always, Julian deposited them both on one of the couches. The soft sound of strings still filtered in from the party below as Julian pillowed his head on her chest. Brennan curled around him, slinging a leg across him. Almost comically, Julian's feet hung off the end.

“I could die here and be a happy man,” Julian said, unable to control himself amidst the lack of conversation.

Brennan swatted at him in good humor. The not so distant memory of Nadia's threats of hanging him for a murder he did not commit still send an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. Her arms tightened a little more around his shoulders. He pressed a kiss above her heart.

“The night's still young,” she said instead, fingers winding their way up and into the curly mess of his hair.

“Mm, it is. Say, how long do you think it will take before we're found here?”

He looked up at her, stormy gray eye alight with mischief.

“Oh, I don't know. A while yet.”

**

It was mid-afternoon when Portia finally came to rouse them for a late breakfast. She was not surprised to find them still sleeping. No one thought to check the mess of the library, a shelf with scattered books along the floor, one of the chairs overturned, and a few papers strewn across the floor.

Julian just laughed, the rich sound stirring Brennan. She buried her nose into his collarbone.

After a moment, he said, “I can't wait until we do this again next year.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Rou who so generously let me borrow their nonbinary but female identifying apprentice, Brennan, for this fic. Hope you all enjoy her as much as I do!


End file.
